


Heart of Courage

by FarAwayInWonderland



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Bathroom Sex, Blow Jobs, Hook-Up, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Zane Family Feels, teacher!Mike
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 12:52:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9491696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FarAwayInWonderland/pseuds/FarAwayInWonderland
Summary: “I find that correcting the works of my students is easier here than it´s at home,” Mike replied with a faint smile on his lips. “Besides, I´d probably lose at last a few papers if I were to take them with me.” He grinned at Walker. “I´m not the most orderly person.”“I remember well,” Father Walker replied. “But it seems that I made the right choice to offer you Father Harbidge´s old position.”“I feel out of my depth, though,” Mike confessed. “I want to help them, to prevent them from making my mistakes, but they just push me away and march straight forward. I just don’t know how to reach them.”Mike is a teacher at St. Claire´s and his students aren´t the easiest ones to handle. That doesn´t mean, though, that Mike isn´t ready to protect them at all cost. Even if the lawyer of the opposing side is some gorgeous specimen in three-piece suit. Especially then.Inspired by the scenes with Mike as teacher in 6.11.





	

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, I wanted to post this when it was finished, but it´s already 10k words and not even halfways finished, so I post the first part now. Not much Marvey interaction as of yet, I´m afraid to admit, but there definitely is more to come ;) I really liked how the Zane family dynamic turned out, though. 
> 
> This story will probably have two to three parts. 
> 
> Jeremy is not an OC, btw. I chose that name for [this](http://goddamnmikeross.tumblr.com/post/156478921380) guy from 6.11.

“Jeremy, please stay behind.” The boy in question looked up from his place, but didn’t acknowledge Mike´s command as he put away his stuff. The other boys of the class were already filtering out into the hallway, eager to get away from school as it was a beautiful summer day and the baseball fields behind the church beckoned for them. Mike, meanwhile, looked down on the papers that stockpiled on his desk and let out a long-suffering sigh.

Guess who wouldn’t have any time to go outside and have fun today?  

“What´s it about, Mr. Ross?” Jeremy stood in front of his desk, nervously fidgeting with his fingers, his gaze flickering over the whole room, looking everywhere but at Mike. Mike rummaged through another pile of papers until he found what he was looking for.  

“This,” he said and pushed the paper towards Jeremy who made no move to take it. “Your essay about the movie we watched last week, which after three pages consists only of the copy and pasted phrase ‘Suck my dick, you´re not reading that far, anyway.’” Mike shot him a mirthless smile. “If I had, indeed, only read the first three pages then you´d have gotten a B+. But now…”  

“Father Harbidge never read that far,” Jeremy muttered under his breath, but Mike was able to hear it anyway.  

“But I´m not him,” Mike remarked. “And this isn´t the first time that happened. You always start out really great and then it dissolves into… _this_.” He pointed at the essay that was still laying on his desk. “Why?”  

“Why do you care?” Jeremy grounded out. “It doesn’t matter what grades I get or much I apply myself. They´ll just look at my record and judge me on that, so why bother with school?”  

“Because I don’t want you to go through the same things I did,” Mike replied. “I don´t want you to make the same mistakes I did.” He could see that he wasn’t getting through to Jeremy, the defiant tilt of his chin, the lips pressed into a thin line.  

“You´re only here because Father Walker took a chance on you,” Jeremy said. “I´ve got no one willing to take a chance on me.”  

“Jeremy…”  

“Can I go now?” Jeremy interrupted him. Mike sighed.  

“I want the complete essay in my inbox at Sunday evening,” he told Jeremy, who didn’t react and just walked out of the room without even looking back.  

Mike was sorely tempted to just let his head bang on the table, but an inner voice that sounded suspiciously like Father Walker reminded him that even when no one was looking Mike represented the school and the church that was running it and as such he always had to carry himself with the dignity his office demanded. So, Mike just groaned and took one of the red markers out of the top drawer of his desk and began to correct the papers he had received today.  

He lost himself in the flurry of words flashing in front of his eyes, the syntax and grammar flooding his brain, the mistakes blinking on the papers before he could even consciously notice them as he struck through words, underlined unfitting phrases and wrote missing words and letters on the side column.  

When Mike looked up again, it was already dark outside. 

“Still here?” Mike didn’t need to look to the door to know who it was, recognising Father Walker´s voice almost immediately.  

“I find that correcting the works of my students is easier here than it´s at home,” Mike replied with a faint smile on his lips. “Besides, I´d probably lose at last a few papers if I were to take them with me.” He grinned at Walker. “I´m not the most orderly person.”  

“I remember well,” Walker replied. “But it seems that I made the right choice to offer you Father Harbidge´s old position.”  

“I feel out of my depth, though,” Mike confessed. “I want to help them, to prevent them from making my mistakes, but they just push me away and march straight forward. I just don’t know how to reach them.”  

“It´s hard, I know,” Father Walker admitted. He pulled a chair in front of Mike´s desk and sat down on it. “But if there´s one thing I´ve learned during my time in service to the church, then it´s that you can only help people if they want to be helped. And until then the only choice you have is to let them know that you´ll be there once they reach that point.” He laid his hand atop Mike´s forearm and squeezed it. It was a reassuring gesture, one that reminded Mike of the other times in his life when he had needed it. “But I believe that you´ll manage it.”  

“They don’t trust me,” Mike pointed out.  

“You´ve barely been here for half a year,” Walker replied. “They still miss Father Harbidge who was so abruptly torn out of our midst. He had years to earn their trust. Give yourself some time.” Walker smiled reassuringly at Mike and the teacher couldn’t help but reciprocate the gesture.  

“And now I advise you to go home,” Walker told Mike. “Even angels don’t work at this time anymore.”  

“Alright, old man,” Mike laughed. “I´ll leave.” 

* * *

Maybe angels weren’t working at night, but New York certainly wasn’t asleep. The lights of the countless skyscrapers tore through the night sky and illuminated the whole island of Manhattan in a warm yellow glow. Faintly one could recognise a few stars on the horizon, but more often than not it was just a plane that flew over the city on its way to JFK or one of the other airports around the city. Cars honked, billboards were flashing in their bright colours, advertising all you could probably want in your life. A few times Mike had to step aside in order to evade groups of drunken people that streamed out of the popular clubs of New York of which Mike had no clue about because ever since he started teaching he had found his free time more and more diminishing until he had neither the time nor the desire to frequent the loud and crowded places.  

Didn’t mean that he wasn’t missing them. Especially because he hadn’t gotten laid since what felt like forever. Mike didn’t know why exactly – maybe it was exactly because of that, or because he had hit dead end with Jeremy – but twenty minutes later he found himself in a seedy back-alley bar where he knew he would get what he wanted.  

He watched the other men that lingered at the tables under the weak yellow light that barely managed to reach the corners of the room. You were barely able to make out the faces of the other patrons, which was probably fully intended. There were a few young boys – barely men – that looked pretty anxious, their gazes constantly flickering to the door, their fingers fidgeting with their beer bottles. Probably their first time in such an establishment.  

There was one man, though, that caught Mike´s attention. He was sitting at the other end of the bar, letting his gaze wander around the room as if he had nothing else to care about. He wore tight fitting pants and Henley that showed off his muscular build. While it was pretty basic, even from where he sat Mike could see the extraordinary quality of the clothes and he wondered what such a man was doing here of all places. The man´s brown hair was cut short, the look in his hazel eyes appraising and intelligent and a certain aura of sophistication and arrogance hung around him like a cloud that kept the rabble away.  

For a short moment their gazes locked, but then the man looked away again and Mike went back to nursing his beer.  

Over the course of the evening several men came up to him, but Mike turned them all down. He didn’t know why, but none of them had what he was looking for. Slowly, the content of his bottle became less and less until there was only foam left.  

Mike sighed and stood up. Apparently, sex wasn’t in the cards for him today. Thus, it came quite surprising when he turned around and nearly ran into the Henley man. Mike stumbled, but before he could fall on the ground, the man had grabbed him by the wrist and had hoisted him up. Mike was pretty much aware of how close they stood to each other and due to his alcohol consume he couldn’t quite supress other parts of his anatomy reacting to the presence of a handsome man.  

“Let´ not bother with coy talk and other nonsense,” the man said.  

“Wow, you´re pretty straight forward,” Mike replied.  

“That´s the only straight thing happening tonight,” the man retorted with his lips curled into a slight smirk. Mike just gaped at him.  

“Wow, that was the worst innuendo I´ve ever heard,” Mike laughed. “But seriously, what makes you think I´m down for it?” The man leaned forward, invading Mike´s personal space as if he had the right to and Mike could smell the expensive cologne lingering on the man, could feel the other´s breath ghosting over his skin.  

“Because I´ve watched you,” the man whispered. “How you turned down all those pretty twinks who were looking for someone to cuddle them through their first time. You´re looking for real men, aren’t you? I saw how you looked at me. You´re just waiting for someone to take you to a stall and fuck you until you can´t walk straight anymore.” Mike cold feel the heat rising to his cheeks, but he didn’t deny what the man had said. He couldn’t.  

“You think you´re up for the challenge?” Mike teased. The man just raised his perfect eyebrows at Mike, and then, before Mike had even had the chance to react, he was manhandled towards the toilets.  

The man washing his hands in the bathroom didn’t even blink when they entered the room, just nodding at them and then leaving the room. The man manoeuvred Mike into one of the empty stalls and then his lips were already on Mike´s, his tongue demanding entrance to Mike´s mouth, which he eagerly granted. Mike could taste some faint note of whiskey and coffee, an unusual mixture but not a bad one.  

After a while of kissing, Mike got impatient and started to fumble with the other man´s pants. With well-practiced ease he zipped open his fly and then – with a little bit of rearranging because the stall wasn’t that big – Mike sank down on his knees until his face was on the same height as Henley man´s crotch. His cock was covered in white Calvin Klein underwear, but from its imprints Mike could see that it was nothing to scoff it. Carefully he traced it with his tongue, wetting the white fabric. The man made a hissing sound, but otherwise Mike wasn’t able to elicit any kind of sound from him.  

Mike pulled the underwear down and Henley man´s cock sprung free: It wasn’t the longest Mike had ever seen, but its girth was definitely something Mike would enjoy. Carefully he sucked the man´s balls into his mouth and played with them, alternating between just sucking at them and nibbling at them with his teeth, just enough to send a thrill through the other man. Then he let his tongue wander upwards, painting a wet strip of spit along the length of Henley man´s cock until he reached its head.  

“Slap me,” Mike demanded, his voice already raspy.  

“Quite the deviant, aren’t you?” Henley man chuckled. He traced Mike´s lips with the head of his cock, smearing it with precum, and then he slapped him. And again. Mike groaned at the sudden outbursts of pain that flashed through over his skin.  

“Now back to work,” Henley man commanded and shoved his cock between Mike´s lips. Mike could feel the other man´s hand at the back of his head, making sure that he couldn’t back away as the other man fed him his cock until Mike´s nose touched his neatly trimmed pubic hair. Mike had to gag a little bit, but countless other such encounters had nearly destroyed his gag reflex and so after a short while Henley man was fucking his throat with abandon. Mike´s cock was aching hard, straining against his pants, but Mike knew if he touched himself now he´d come. Nothing got him off more than being used for another person´s pleasure. Just a hole to be used, to be filled and thrown away. He moaned, his throat constricting around Henley man´s cock. His thrusts became more erratic, a sure sign that he was about to come and, indeed, a few more thrust and the man was cumming down Mike´s throat. Mike swallowed everything, chasing after every last drop until Henley man´s cock hung spent and flaccid in his mouth.  

The man pulled out and zipped his cock back in all the while his breaths till was laboured, his pupils still blown wide. He opened the stall door.  

“Hey, what about me?!” Mike exclaimed indignantly.  

“I´m sure you can take care of yourself,” Henley man smirked and left the stall. Mike didn’t waste any time: He took his cock out of his pants and with only a few strokes he came, splattering the door in front of him with his cum with the taste of the other man still on his lips. He sighed and sank down on the toilet seat, every bit of strength having left his body.  

He would need to clean the whole mess up. 

* * *

Mike evaded another group of drunken men – tourists, probably, having come to New York to ‘have fun’ (why they didn’t go to Vegas for that was always something Mike wondered about) – who shouted some rather lewd comments at him which Mike ignored and then slowly but surely the buildings around him turned into a residence area, the glass and concrete skyscraper making place for tenement houses, the designer shops being replaced by Target and Co. The streets became quieter, only a taxi passing him by every now and then as the lights behind the windows were extinguished the later the hour became.  

Then, a figure stumbled out of a side street and fell to the ground right in front of Mike. He couldn’t make the other person´s features, but Mike noticed the bloody knuckles, the torn jeans and the ragged breathing as the person made no attempt to stand up. Torn between the urge to help and just call 911, Mike stood there for a few seconds before he ran towards the person and kneeled down beside them.  

“Are you alright?” Mike asked as he turned the person on their back. “Can you hear…Jeremy?”  

“Mr Ross?” Jeremy wheezed out between bloodied lips. His whole face was swollen up, his eyes only slits surrounded by blue skin. “Whatcha doing ‘ere?”  

“I live around here,” Mike replied automatically. “I need to call an ambulance.” He grabbed for his mobile but before he could pull it out of his pocket Jeremy´s hand had already wrapped itself around his and was keeping him from calling. For someone who looked like he had been roughed up by a whole bar the boy still possessed admirable strength.  

“Don´t,” Jeremy pleaded. “Please.”  

“You´re hurt,” Mike exclaimed. “What if you´ve got internal bleeding? You need to get to a hospital.” 

“No hospital,” Jeremy repeated. “No hospital, please, no hospital.”  

“Okay, okay,” Mike tried to reassure the frightened boy. “I won´t call 911. Can you stand?” A few spasms went through Jeremy´s body, but otherwise he didn’t make any move to stand up.  

“Shit, shit, shit,” Mike mumbled to himself. Carefully – apparently not careful enough, though, going by the sharp intake of breath from Jeremy – he slung the boy´s arms around his neck and then, as careful as he was able to, he hoisted his pupil up from the ground. They nearly fell down when Jeremy tried to stand on his own two feet and they gave in under his weight, but Mike managed to keep Jeremy standing.  

“It´s only fifty meters until my flat,” Mike told the boy. “Do you think you´ll manage that far?” Jeremy just nodded, but his expression was distorted by pain and Mike knew that their time was running short. Step by step they made their way forward and Mike didn’t know how long it took them, but finally they stood in front of his door. After a while of fumbling with his keys, he managed to open the door and they stumbled in.  

“You´re lucky that I live on the first floor,” Mike mumbled as they slowly took the few steps upward.  

“Lay down here,” Mike commanded Jeremy as they entered his living room. Carefully he laid the boy down on his couch. “I should have some ice in the freezer and some pain killers in my cabinet. Are you tired?”  

“A little bit,” Jeremy replied.  

“Then you have to stay awake,” Mike told him. “At least until I´ve made sure that you don’t have a concussion.”  

“Didn’t know you were also a doctor,” Jeremy slurred, his eyes about to close. Mike shook him awake again.  

“You´d be surprised what I can learn if I have the time and the books,” he said and after he made sure that Jeremy wouldn’t roll off the couch he went into his kitchen to fetch the ice, the pain killers and a flashlight.  

“Open your eyes,” Mike told Jeremy. “Your pupils aren’t dilated, that´s good. Can you follow the light, please?” He slew the flashlight back and forth, Jeremy following the movements with his eyes until Mike was satisfied. “At least you don´t have a concussion, that´s one positive thing.” Jeremy snorted which then turned into a painful wheezing. Mike handed him over the ice, which the other gladly took and pressed it down on his face.  

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” Mike asked, carefully as to not scare Jeremy away. The boy was much like a hurt and frightened animal. Mike needed to be careful and gentle, lest the other boy would clam up and push him out.  

“Not much to tell,” Jeremy mumbled. “Got jumped. Wouldn’t be the first time…” Apparently, the last part wasn’t meant to be said out loud.  

“What?” Mike exclaimed.  

“It´s nothing,” Jeremy told Mike. “Some rich guys who get off on ganging up on the ‘felony kids’.” Mike wanted to press on, but he recognised when further investigation would do more harm than good and besides, Jeremy looked like he was about to fall asleep on the spot.  

“I´ll get you some blankets,” Mike said. Jeremy didn’t reply, because he had already fallen asleep.  

* * *

When Jeremy woke up the next morning, at first he didn’t know where he was. The ceiling he was staring at wasn’t the one of his room at home and the smell wasn’t familiar either. Furthermore, his whole body hurt as if he had been run over by a truck. When he tried to move his leg, hot pain shot through his whole body, making him wince.  

“Jeremy, are you awake?” Wait, that was Mr Ross’ voice. Suddenly everything rushed back into his mind: Going home after having loitered around with his friends, getting jumped by Chad and his goons, staggering through the streets, not knowing where he was or how he would make his way home, being found by Mr Ross who took him into his flat.  

Jeremy opened his eyes and found himself staring into Mr Ross’ face, his blue eyes looking at him with worry. He didn’t know why it popped up in his mind right now, but he remembered how Clary had gushed over those eyes and how beautiful they looked.  _‘Like staring into the sea on a sunny day.’_  He had thrown in three shop windows that day.  

“Here´s another painkiller,” Ross said and held a white pill in front of him while his other hand was holding a glass of water. Supressing a wince, Jeremy slowly sat up and took the two pill and the glass from Mr Ross. He swallowed the pill and gulped down the water until he could feel the pain receding a little bit.  

“Don´t you have a class to teach?” Jeremy wanted to know.  

“Oh, it´s quite alright. I´ve spoken with Father Walker and he gave me the day off,” Mr Ross assured him. “I didn’t tell him about you, just that I had an emergency coming up unexpectedly,” he added when he noticed Jeremy´s panicked expression. “Is there anyone I should call for you?”  

“No, no one,” Jeremy replied quietly. His mother was quite used to him being gone for days straight and, well, his dad hadn’t been present in his life since his fifth birthday, so yes, there was no one who would miss him. Mr Ross looked like he wanted to argue, but he didn’t press further and for that Jeremy was quite thankful. He didn’t need any pity, certainly not from some adults.  

“What happened yesterday?” Mr Ross asked. “You said something about ‘rich guys getting off on beating up felony kids’.” Damn, he should have just kept his mouth shut. Involving adults was never something that paid off in the end.  

“Why do you care?” Jeremy spat at the other man. He knew that he should be thankful to Mr Ross for literally saving his ass when not many people he knew would have, but Jeremy didn’t like being on the defensive, didn’t like not knowing someone´s motivations because it kept him at disadvantage. If you knew what a person was after you could arrange yourself with them, but Jeremy knew nothing about Mr Ross.  

“Because someone has to,” Mr Ross replied. “Someone hurt you and they need to be held responsible for their actions. Just because you have it rough doesn’t give someone else a free pass to do whatever they want to you.” He paused for a short moment. “I was once like you and I´m here today because I had someone who cared about me. Someone who saw through the reports and the mask I had erected for myself and that someone saved me.”  

“You can´t go after them,” Jeremy told Mr Ross. “You can´t. They have money. They just make the charges go away.” He had witnessed it with his mother: Rich people never had to pay for what they did, only the poor had to.  

“You have to press charges,” Mr Ross replied. “I know their type and they´ll never stop until they´re made to.”  

“I can´t afford a lawyer.” It was his last-ditch effort. Maybe Mr Ross would let the matter go if he finally realised that Jeremy couldn’t afford a decent lawyer, because surely the man wouldn’t want to waste his own money on Jeremy. He couldn’t make that much as a teacher, anyway. But instead of agreeing with Jeremy, Mr Ross’ face lit up as if he´d just been told that it was his birthday.  

“If I can get you a decent lawyer,” Ross began, “will you press charges then?” Jeremy wanted to say ‘No’ and just be done with it. You didn’t involve authorities in his world. Every man on his own and if your own wasn’t enough then pity for you, but he couldn’t deny that having someone in his corner was a nice feeling, even if he didn’t believe that Mr Ross would stay there for long. No one had, yet. And Jeremy was tired of fighting alone, for the crumbs that society had deigned to hand down to him, so maybe getting back at them would be quite nice as well. Besides, what was the chance that Mr Ross would find someone who would take his case?  

So, Jeremy just nodded. And then he told Mr Ross everything.  

* * *

Mike could never get quite used to entering the intimidating entrance hall of the skyscraper where Rachel´s office was located at. Everything was made of marble, tropic woods and crystal, the men wore expensive suits and the women extravagant costumes, both gender decorated with luxurious accessories – watches and cuff links for the men and jewellery for the women – making Mike feel completely out of place in his Target pants and shirt (both ironed at least). Every second he feared that someone from security would walk up to him and tell him to leave, but no one came. He made his way towards the reception and waited until the secretary deigned himself more worthy than the call she was currently making.  

“How may I help you, sir?” she asked, not bothering to hide the sarcastic undertone to the ‘sir’.  

“I have an appointment with Rachel Zane,” Mike replied and from the way the woman´s eyebrows rose he knew that she didn’t believe him. “Just call her.” The secretary did just that. 

“Mrs Zane, there´s one Mike Ross to see you…ah…okay…I´ll send him up.” She put the telephone back at turned her gaze towards Mike.  

“Apparently, you know the way,” she said. Mike nodded at her and walked towards the elevators. Thankfully he was the only one in the cabin and so his ride upward took him only twenty or so seconds. The doors slid open and allowed him to enter the hallways of Rand, Kaldor & Zane LLP.  

“Michael!” a loud voice bellowed.  

“Robert!” Mike shouted back and then he was already engulfed in a short but fierce hug by the name partner of the firm.  

“It´s been ages since we´ve last seen each other,” Robert said. “Laura and I´ve been missing your presence around. You´re always such a delight to have discussions with.”  

“I´m flattered,” Mike replied. “If only the man your daughter is currently with would enjoy your favour as much as I do.” Robert´s expression darkened.  

“That Logan is such a short flight of fancy for Rachel,” he muttered. “They´ll break up soon enough.”  

“You already said that the last time,” Mike pointed out. “And the time before that. And the time before the time before the last time…”  

“Alright, alright, I get it,” Robert interrupted Mike. “But a father can hope. You´re sure you don’t want to make an honest woman out of my daughter?” With a loud bang the files the associate who had more or less discreetly listened in to their talk had carried with him fell to the ground. Flushing in embarrassment, the man bent down and picked them up, mumbling a mangled mix of ‘Sorry, Mr Zane, won´t happen again, Mr Zane’ and then rushed away.  

“While your daughter has many charms, the fact remains that she´s your daughter and not your son,” Mike replied. Robert let out a loud bark.  

“Ah, the good ones are always gay, aren’t they?”  

“Or already in a relationship,” Mike added with a sigh.  

“What brings you to thus humble law firm on this sunny day?” Robert asked. Mike snorted.  

“Always one for humility, aren’t you?” Then he turned serious. “I have a case to discuss with Rachel. A student of mine got assaulted by some assholes and I could barely persuade him to press charges because apparently, they´re assholes with rich daddies.” He glowered at the stark reminder of this gross injustice.  

“If you need anything, don´t hesitate to call me,” Robert told Mike. “Ah, and there´s my daughter.” Indeed, Rachel had just come around the corner. She surely made for an impressing sight in her rosé coloured business costume and heels in the same colour, her brown hair cascading over her shoulders in glossy waves, her face set in an expression between determination and delight.  

“And I wondered why you needed so long to get to my office,” Rachel rolled her eyes. “Did Dad try to make you marry me again?” She sent a pointed look at her father who just shrugged with his shoulders.  

“He always does,” Mike said. “And I always decline his offer of your hand.”  

“He´d treat you right,” Robert mumbled under his breath, but a heated glare from Rachel made him fall silent.  

“As does Logan,” Rachel snapped back.  

“I´ll leave you to your business then,” Robert tried to divert their conversation in a more than obvious matter. “Mike.” He nodded at the blonde and then he was gone into one of the conference rooms.  

“I could kill him sometimes,” Rachel muttered.  

“Please don´t,” Mike interjected. “I have need of your service. And besides, your dad throws wicked barbecues.” Rachel shot him a glare, but Mike had become immune to the various glares the Zane family used to throw around, so he just grinned at her.  

“It´s just…” Rachel began as they made their way towards her office. “He doesn’t respect the relationship I have with Logan.”  

“Well, to be honest, Logan is very difficult to get along with,” Mike answered carefully. He had only met Rachel´s boyfriend a few times, but he had seen from the beginning why Robert wouldn’t like the man: He may be cunning, ruthless and intelligent – all things the Zane patriarch valued in his underlings – but in Logan´s case those traits weren’t tempered by compassion and empathy and it showed in his interaction with the people he deemed underneath him; in this case Mike.  

“He´s not that bad,” Rachel defended her boyfriend.  

“Let´s just agree to disagree,” Mike replied.  

“It´s just so frustrating that my best friend and my own father hate the man I love,” Rachel huffed. She opened the door of her office, allowing Mike to enter before she herself did and closed it behind her. “It´d be so much easier if you were all getting along.” She sat down behind her desk.  

“Just give it time, maybe we´ll grow on each other…like mould.” Rachel threw a pen at Mike which he evaded effortlessly.  

“You´re not here to discuss my boyfriend with me, though, or are you?” Rachel wanted to know. “Tell me about this case of yours.”  

"It´s about a student of mine," Mike began. "You know I´ve been teaching at St. Claire´s..." 

"Yeah, you told me," Rachel interrupted him. "You´re teaching those boys who wouldn´t have anyone else otherwise. It´s such a generous thing to do."  

"Well, one of them, Jeremy, has been assaulted and now he´s very hesitant about going to court over it because he thinks that no one cares," Mike continued. Rachel gasped in shock.  

"Is that why you´re here?" She asked.  

"I want you to represent him," Mike told her. He knew that Rachel wouldn’t refuse him. Like himself, she couldn’t let any kind of injustice go unanswered which, at least in Mike´s opinion, made her an excellent lawyer to whom he would entrust his very life to.  

"Of course," Rachel concurred. "We´re gonna make them pay." She scribbled something down in the notebook of hers. "Who are we going up against?"  

"The assailant's name is Chad Tennigton," Mike told her. All of a sudden Rachel stopped writing.  

"Are you sure?" She questioned him. Mike just nodded.  

"That´s gonna be difficult," Rachel sighed. "Tennigton is very influential and he´s represented by Pearson Specter Litt."  

"Are you chickening out?"  

"Of course not!" Rachel huffed affronted. "It just means that we have to prepare very methodically, lest PSL is gonna obliterate us."  

"Research?" Mike asked with raised eyebrows.  

"Research," Rachel nodded.  

* * *

It had to be said that Jessica Pearson did neither hate nor despise Robert Zane, even though some people would swear their soul on it (not that many lawyers still had theirs). Both he and she were people of colour coming from poverty in a world dominated by rich, white and in many cases also old men. They both had clawed their way upwards with nothing but cunning, ruthlessness and intelligence and they wouldn´t be where they were now if they hadn´t left some corpses littering their way.  

So, one could say that there existed a state of mutual respect and admiration between them. That didn’t prevent either of them from going after the other, though. But Jessica knew that unlike many other lawyers Robert had red lines he wouldn’t cross as did she and it made the other person both predictable but also easy to work with.  

That didn’t mean that Jessica was very enthused when she came to the floors of PSL on Monday morning and saw Robert Zane lingering in the entrance area, obviously waiting for her.  

"Robert," Jessica greeted the other man, her smile more teeth than actual smile. "What brings you to my humble law firm?"  

"This," Robert said and handed her an envelope. Jessica took it from his outstretched hand, opened it and read its content.  

"You´re suing Tennigton?" She read out loud in incredulousness.  

"His son, to be exact," Robert corrected her smugly. "And my daughter is doing the actual suing. You´ve been served."  

"This isn´t like you at all," Jessica remarked. "You´ve got no connection to Tennigton, and you usually don´t do criminal law, expect when it´s personal, but I see no personal connection here."  

"Let´s just say that this case has been brought to my attention by someone close the family," Robert replied, looking down on his watch while doing it. "I gotta go, court is in thirty minutes. Our lunch tomorrow still stands?"  

"Yes," Jessica confirmed. "Robert?" She called out after him, the doors of the elevator about to close. "You know that Tennigton´s gonna fight this with all he´s got?" The last thing she saw before the door closed was Robert Zane grinning at her.  

"Call Harvey Specter and tell him to come to my office," Jessica barked at the secretary who had pathetically failed at pretending to do actual work while she was listening in on her and Robert´s talk. The secretary winced and grabbed for the telephone. Jessica didn’t wait for her to finish, instead rushing towards her office.  

It was only a few moments later that Harvey entered her office with his usual swagger and the all too familiar smirk on his face, his hair gelled back and wearing a midnight blue three-piece suit. Even Harvey knew better than to keep Jessica waiting.

“Jessica, what can I do for you?” he asked as he sat down in the chair in front of her desk.

“I just got served by Robert Zane,” Jessica replied. Harvey frowned.

“I don´t recall any cases involving his firms,” he said. “We closed that merger months ago, he would have come after us sooner if he…”

“It´s not corporate,” Jessica interrupted him.

“Then what´s it about?” Harvey asked.

“He – or rather his daughter – is suing Frank Tennigton´s son for assault and battery in several instances,” Jessica explained. “As we are his representatives we received the notice.” Jessica handed him over the envelope. “I want you to take care of it.”

“We don´t do criminal law,” Harvey grumbled.

“And we both know that´s not true,” Jessica retorted. “Tennigton is a high-profile client of ours and he pays us handsomely for making all of his problems go away.” She grinned at Harvey, all predator. “Besides, you were the one to sign him, so you can take care of this mess.” She could see how Harvey was about to backtalk to her, but one sharp look was enough to stop him in his tracks.

“Fine,” Harvey grounded out.

* * *

Frank Tennigton lived outside of New York City because he hated the crowded city and because nowhere in New York you could get an estate with a garden that could fit in a private lake. Harvey had signed him on a few years ago and during that time Tennigton had never needed him for high profile work. A small suit against competitors infringing on his intellectual property, slapping some newspapers down for slander, going over expansion plans for his firm, but otherwise nothing big. He was exactly the kind of client Jessica liked, because he paid much money but didn’t make much of a fuss otherwise.

So, it puzzled Harvey greatly that Tennigton would need him to fend off an accusation against his son, whom Harvey didn’t even know.

The intercom at the iron gate buzzed to life: “How may I help you?”

“Harvey Specter here for Frank Tennigton,” Harvey replied. For a short moment, there was no reaction, then the gate opened and allowed him entry. A maid was already waiting for him at entrance and led him through the richly decorated mansion. Stepping over the doorway felt like stepping into a completely different world. The inside of the house looked like it belonged to some French aristocrat, not some American industrialist whose family made most of its money with steel in the roaring twenties of the last century. Gold and stucco wherever you gazed, portrays of the likes you found in Renaissance churches, a broad staircase that dominated the middle of the entrance hall, covered in red carpets.

It wasn’t really Harvey´s taste, but he didn’t have to live here, anyway.

Tennigton was waiting for him in what Harvey could only describe as saloon, sitting in front of an extinct fire place like some monarch receiving a lowly petitioner.

“Harvey,” the man greeted him and beckoned the lawyer to sit down in the cushy chair opposite of him with a slight nod of his head. Tennigton was nearly sixty now, but somehow (good genes or good doctors, who knew?) he still managed to look like mid-forty. His sandy brown hair was till shiny with only a few streaks of grey in-between, his skin only furrowed slightly while strength and intelligence still lingered behind his green eyes. “I was surprised when I received your secretary´s call asking for an appointment.”

“Mr Tennigton,” Harvey greeted the man back after he sat down. “I´m here on Mrs Pearson´s behest.” He took the envelope out of his breast pocket and handed it over to the man. “Your son is being accused of battery and assault and is summoned to appear in front of the court in three weeks’ time.”  Tennigton took the envelope out of Harvey´s hand, opened it and read the letter it contained within. The man showed no outward reaction.

“Why are you giving me this?” Tennigton asked after a while.

“Well,” Harvey started. “PSL is your representative in legal matters, and as your son´s not of age yet, you´re his.” Harvey looked around. “By the way, where´s your son? I instructed my secretary to ask for him as well.”

“He´s still at school,” Tennigton replied. “Do you know more about the accusations than what´s written in here?” He waved around with the letter.

“Not yet,” Harvey admitted. “We just received the letter today, after all.”

“So, how are we going to move forward from here on?” Tennigton asked.

“First, I have to talk with your son,” Harvey answered. “Depending on what he´ll tell me and whether or not the accusations are true, I´ll develop a strategy to either prove his innocence or to get him off with the lightest sentence possible.” He didn’t let his gaze waver, looking for how Tennigton would react to the insinuation that the accusation that were levelled at his son might be true. But again, the man kept his cool and didn’t react in any way, but to nod slightly at Harvey.

“Chad will come home around seven, but you´re a busy man, so I doubt you have the time to wait until then, so how about you´ll come by again tomorrow at eleven?” he suggested. “I´ll make sure that Chad´ll be here to answer all of your questions.”

“That´d conclude our business then.” Harvey stood up, buttoned up his jacket, Tennigton following suit. The men shook hands and then Harvey was led out of the mansion.

He just hoped that the whole thing would blow over soon.

* * *

“You´re sure don´t want to come with me?” Mr Ross asked Jeremy as he stood in the doorway, his messenger back slung over his shoulder as he was ready to go to St. Claire´s. “You only look like you repeatedly walked against a wall instead of being ran over by several trucks.” That comment made Jeremy snort, despite his resolve to not react to the other man´s jokes.

“I don´t think I´m ready yet,” he replied.

“You have to go back eventually, though,” Mr Ross told him, not admonishing but soft and understanding. Jeremy sighed. He knew that, but that didn’t mean that he wanted to. Thankfully, Mr Ross didn’t pry any further.

“Food is in the refrigerator,” he told Jeremy. “The code for the child-proofing on the TV is two, five, eight, three –“ Jeremy rolled his eyes. He couldn’t believe that his teacher hadn’t bother to just switch the child-proofing off on his TV, instead of typing in the code every time he wanted to use it. “- and if there´s any trouble…”

“…I call Ms Zane,” Jeremy finished for him. Mr Ross just gave him a thumbs-up and then he was out of the flat, the door closing behind him. Silence fell over the apartment and Jeremy found solace in it. He had spent the whole weekend here on this couch, being looked after by Mr Ross. Jeremy hadn’t even been able to cough without the man appearing by his side and demanding to know if he was alright, did he feel dizzy, was there a headache coming?

It was nice, Jeremy supposed, to have someone look after yourself like that. His mother had never been able to just take a few days off just for looking after him when he was ill, their lack of money never allowing it. Jeremy had spent all of his colds, headaches and other ailments alone in his small bedroom, a ratty teddy bear the only thing offering him company while his body felt like someone had set it on fire. He could still tell how many cracks there were on his ceiling, could still conjure that image up in front of his mind from all the long hours he had spent staring at it. Once call to his mother, claiming he was ‘staying with friends’ and she didn’t even ask further.

He had gotten to know Mr Ross’ friend Ms Zane _(“Call me Rachel, Ms Zane makes me feel like my mother.”)_. She had been very nice to him, as well, and apparently, she also was a lawyer, one who would take his case to court. She had grilled him with questions, yet had always been nice and smiling. Mr Ross had been sitting with them the whole time, offering reassuring smiles whenever Jeremy felt out of his depths, which was quite often when it came to these official things.

He would have never thought that someone would one day offer him help without expecting something in return. Adults only ever paid attention to him when he had done something, only when they wanted to punish him. St. Claire´s was his last chance to make something out of his life, but Jeremy knew that he was squandering it. But why should he bother when all everyone ever did was judging him for his past and were never willing to give him a fair chance?

But Mr Ross and Ms Zane had been willing and maybe that was why he had told him what had happened to him? It made something in Jeremy twinge with guilt when he thought about how he had treated Mr Ross before.

 _You ever drop the soap in the shower?’_ Every time Jeremy remembered that particular occurrence he wanted to crawl under the covers and slowly die. Father Harbidge had been the only one who had ever trusted and supported the boys in his class, who had worked to earn their trust and who had fought for them. Being told that the man was dying of cancer had been one of the greatest shocks of Jeremy´s life and it had made his world crash down like a house of cards. And then one day this blonde twink had stood where Father Harbidge usually stood with his easy-going smile and eagerness. He tried to replace Father Harbidge, to make them think that he cared, even though he was only at St. Claire´s because no one else would take him and he knew Father Walker personally.

Jeremy had wanted to hurt the man, to make him realise just how unwelcome he was amidst them and there had been a short-lived feeling of satisfaction when that look of hurt had flashed over Mr. Ross’ face, but it was a hollow feeling, one that didn’t last very long.

Looking back at it now, Jeremy couldn’t believe that Mr Ross was willing to help him after all the things he had done to make the teacher´s life as difficult as possible. It made Jeremy want to give something back to the man who had sacrificed so much for him.

Maybe he should start writing more than three pages for his essays.

* * *

Jeremy must have nodded off, because he was woken by the insistent ringing of the doorbell. Still sluggish from being so suddenly torn from his slumber, he dragged himself towards the front door and looked through the spyhole. It was Ms Zane on the other side, so Jeremy opened the door.

“Hello Jeremy,” she greeted him and before he could even react she had engulfed him in a tight hug. Jeremy didn’t know how to react, not really familiar with that kind of gesture, so he just awkwardly patted her on the back until she let go of him.

“Mr Ross isn’t here yet,” he told Ms Zane, because what other reason did she have for coming here but to meet her friend?

“Oh, I know,” Ms Zane replied. “For someone with an eidetic memory, Mike can be such a scatterbrain sometimes.” She shook her head, but Jeremy recognise the underlying fondness in the gesture. “He always visits my family on Mondays for dinner. He wanted to cancel on us, but his flat his on my way anyway, so I decided to drop by.”

“To do what?” Jeremy asked confused.

“To get you, of course,” Ms Zane laughed. “We can´t leave you alone here the whole day, can we?”

“I…I…I don´t want to impose,” Jeremy stammered.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Rachel assuaged his fears. “My mom´s always cocking way too much, because she thinks that Mike´s too skinny, so you won´t.” And like a whirlwind she went through the apartment to collect something for Jeremy to wear while the boy himself stood there mouth agape.

“Aren´t you wondering why I´m still here and not with my own family?” Jeremy finally burst out. Ms Zane stopped mid-motion with what she was doing and turned back to him, her face more serious than he had ever seen before. “Aren´t you wondering why I´m staying with my teacher who I didn’t even like much before?”

“No,” Ms Zane replied and in her expression Jeremy could read nothing but honesty. “Over the years, I have taken on several cases Mike brought to me, and if they have taught me anything, then it´s that not everyone´s circumstances are as good as mine and that there´s often a good reason for everything people do. Like, staying with their teacher instead of their family. You don´t mean any harm to Mike, do you?”

“No,” Jeremy replied, shaking his head.

“Then I have no questions about your reason for staying with him,” Ms Zane finished. “Now, this shirt will definitely look good on you.” She threw it towards him. “Go, change!”

Ten minutes later and both of them were sitting in Ms Zane´s car while she was driving them towards her family´s house.

“How do you and Mr Ross know each other?” Jeremy finally asked the question that was burning in his mind. “If you don´t mind me asking.”

“I don´t,” Ms Zane replied. “A few years ago, Mike was one of my father´s pro bono cases with which I helped him with. Mike tried to sell drugs to pay for his grandmother´s medications but he was caught. My father got him a sentence of only a few months and when he was released he came back to properly thank us and I can´t recall how exactly, but somehow he ended up helping me study for the LSAT.” She smiled as she recalled those memories. “I had crippling test anxiety back then and I´d have never become a lawyer without Mike. My father, of course, wasn’t very enthused, but he warmed up to Mike when he saw what positive changes he brought out in me and today you´d think Mike´s his long-lost son or something with how he´s treating him.” She laughed.

“That´s why Mike´s so insistent with you, y´know?” she continued. “He had someone who helped him back on the right track and now he wants to be that person for you.” Jeremy didn’t reply anything to that. The rest of the car ride was spent in silence.

“We´re here.” Jeremy must have dozed off, because when he opened his eyes he looked up at a three story house that he probably couldn’t even afford if he sold all of his organs on the black market.

“My father´s managing partner of the law firm I work at,” Ms Zane answered the unasked question. “It comes with some perks.” Jeremy snorted. That was a little bit of an understatement. He didn’t want to leave the car, because he wasn’t good at meeting new people, but he couldn’t quite well keep sitting when Ms Rachel was already making her way towards the front door, so he took one last deep breath and exited the vehicle.

“Jeremy.” Mr Ross was standing in the doorway and grinned at him. “So glad you could make it.” Behind him stood an imposing man of black skin colour, who watched Jeremy intensely with an expression he couldn’t quite decipher; next to him a lithe woman who smiled warmly at him. That must be Ms Zane´s parents, Jeremy thought.

“That´s my father Robert and my mother Laura,” Ms Zane introduced them. Jeremy didn’t quite know what to do, so he just extended his hand and mumbled an awkward “Nice to meet you”. Behind him, Mr Ross closed the door, cutting off any escape route.

“It´s so nice to meet you,” Mrs Zana gushed at him. “You certainly look like you could tolerate some food.”

“Mum!” Ms Zane exclaimed.

“Let the boy be, Laura,” Mr Zane said. “You scare him away otherwise.”

“I certainly do not!” Mrs Zane huffed. “Am I coming on too forcefully, dearie?” she asked, turning back towards Jeremy, who was caught like a deer in the headlights.

“Ehm,” he replied eloquently. “No?” Behind him he could hear Mr Ross snorting.

Mr Zane lead them into the dining room where the table was covered in all kind of dishes. It smelled heavenly, especially to Jeremy who knew only the smell of cheap take-out and frozen foods. Everything looked so fresh and healthy, it was like a completely different world that he didn’t know existed until now. Everyone sat down and then Mrs Zane was already distributing the food.

“What do you want, dearie?” she asked Jeremy. Jeremy looked at her in mortification, not knowing what exactly everything was, but thankfully the question seemed to have been directed more to herself than to him, for Mrs Zane just gave him a small portion from everything. Jeremy carefully began to eat, staying silent while he listened to the adults talking to each other.

“I´ve trounced Travis Tanner in court today,” Mr Zane told Mr Ross who was sitting next to him. “You should have seen his face.” Somehow the man made even his gleeful expression look dignified.

“Did you use Sarbanes Oxley?” Mr Ross wanted to know.

“Wouldn’t have thought of it if you hadn’t mentioned it,” Mr Zane replied. “Sharp thinking there.” He took a bite from his steak. “Sure that you don’t want to work for me?” Jeremy didn’t like that statement. Mr Ross was their teacher and he was quite good at it. He couldn’t imagine the blonde as some slicked, soulless lawyer in one of those fancy glass towers in downtown Manhattan.

“Nah,” Mr Ross declined. “I think I´ll stay with teaching.”

“If you ever change your mind…” Mr Zane began.

“…I know where to find you,” Mr Ross finished. On the other side of the table Ms Zane was talking with her mother.

“I think Logan´s gonna propose soon,” she told the older woman, whose eyes nearly bulged out their sockets at that particular piece of information.

“No!” she gasped and the grip around her glass of wine grew even tighter. “What makes you think that?”

“I found a receipt of the jeweller on 23rd street I love so much,” Ms Zane told her mother. “It didn’t say what he bought, but it´ll definitely be a high-grade ring.” She giggled and somehow it made her look even younger.

“So,” Mrs Zane suddenly turned towards Jeremy. “I have been a terrible host so far, not even asking you a single question!”

“It´s fine,” Jeremy rushed to assure her. He glanced at Mr Ross who was still talking with Mr Zane, his back turned towards Jeremy. So, no help to be expected from there.

“No, it isn´t,” Mrs Zane retorted. “You´re one of Mike´s students, aren´t you? It must be great to have him as teacher. It certainly helped my daughter.” She winked at him, while Ms Zane just rolled her eyes at her mother´s words.

“Yeah, he´s a great teacher,” Jeremy replied, something he wouldn’t have said a few days ago.

“And what do you want to do after school?” Mrs Zane asked him. It took Jeremy aback. No one had ever asked him what he wanted to do after school with genuine interest. It was always assumed that he wouldn’t even make it that far and even if he did, that he would barely make it to graduation before sliding into one low-paid job after another before he did something that would land him in front of a judge again, only that this time there would be no church run school for criminal youths to take him in and give him another chance. So, having Mrs Zane asking him what he planned to do with his life made him painfully aware that he hadn’t much of a plan.

“I always wanted to do something with animals,” Jeremy offered hesitantly. “I went to Brooklyn Zoo with my mom once…” He stopped. Surely this people – with their own house, cars and law firms – didn’t care about what he had to say. They could afford to go the zoo whenever and how often they wanted.

“Please, go on,” Mrs Zane prodded.

“The animals are so fascinating,” Jeremy finally spoke. “Animals in general are. Treat them right and they´re loyal to you forever. And I just want to give something back to them, y´know?”

“An admirable goal,” Mrs Zane agreed and somehow her statement sounded sincere.

“That´s the first time I hear of this,” Mr Ross spoke up. Apparently, his talk with Mr Zane had ended quite a while ago and he had heard the end of what Jeremy had said. “The last orientation day we´ve had all of you were going to be rappers and movie stars.” The whole table erupted in laughter and Jeremy´s cheeks grew hot as he looked down on his plate in embarrassment.

“Well, I wanted to become a basketball player,” Mr Zane admitted with a chuckle.

“Really, dad?” Ms Zane exclaimed amused. “You suck at sports.”

“I play golf!” Mr Zane defended himself.

“That´s not much of a sport, is it?” Mrs Zane pointed out.

“It is!” Mr Zane and Mr Ross exclaimed simultaneously. Then everyone broke into broad laughter.

It was nice, Jeremy thought as the dinner and its light-hearted atmosphere continued. He had never been part of something like this and now that he had, he wondered how he could have never missed this when he was younger. It had always been his mother and him. Don´t interpret him wrong, he loved his mother and she loved him, but she wasn’t the most maternal woman he knew (though, Jeremy didn’t know many) and she worked two jobs just to pay for their shabby two-room apartment and to keep electricity flowing throughout the whole month. The moment Jeremy had learned how to operate the microwave, he had had to make his food himself. When he had been younger he had even needed a stool to stand on in order to reach the microwave on the kitchen counter. It had always been him, some unidentifiable dish, the sounds of the TV in the corner and the crippling loneliness that only allowed him to fall asleep after his mother had come home late at night, completely exhausted and unable to even send her son to bed properly.

To see this – the Zanes and Mr Ross, whom Jeremy suspected they had kind of adopted, coming together as family just to enjoy time in each other´s company made him want to have the same thing for himself and the family he wanted to found one day. He was so grateful to Mr Ross and Ms Zane for allowing him to catch a glimpse of this and even partake a little bit. Jeremy suffered no illusions, though: He knew that he was only a tolerated guest here. Once the trial was over it was going back to the two-room apartment and microwaved food for him.

It should dampen his mood, knowing that all this was only fleeting, but right now Jeremy didn’t want to care about the future. Just for one evening he wanted to enjoy the moment without wondering what the next day might bring. Just being selfish for once; after all, he had more than deserved this.

Later that evening when they had moved to the living room, the adults with whiskey or scotch, Jeremy with root beer, Robert Zane took him aside.

“Mike speaks of you only in the highest regards,” the lawyer told him.

“He does?” Jeremy replied puzzled.

“He says that when your motivated enough, you´re hardworking, detail-orientated and not afraid to get your hands dirty.” Jeremy squirmed under the other man´s heavy gaze. “The reason why I bring this up is that a friend of mine is near his retirement age but he has yet to find a successor for his veterinary clinic. I can introduce you to him and if he takes a liking to you, he´d probably be willing to help you pay for college, in return for you working for him. Mind you, you wouldn’t earn much, the hours are atrocious and it´s in the Northern Bronx, but it´s something.”  

“I…I don´t know what to say,” Jeremy stuttered.

“Just think about it,” Mr Zane told him. “And now we better go back before my wife thinks I tried to murder you or something.”

The evening continued in the same vein, the adults talking, trading barbs and jokes, while Jeremy just sat back and enjoyed until it was suddenly way past midnight.

“You can´t travel back all the way at this hour!” Mrs Zane proclaimed when Mr Ross and Jeremy were reading themselves to leave. “We have more than enough room to accommodate the both of you.” All words of protests from both Mr Ross and Jeremy fell on deaf ears and soon thereafter Jeremy found himself in a guest room that was bigger than the apartment he and his mother were living in.

“You´ve survived your first visit with the Zanes.” Jeremy turned around to see Mr Ross standing in the doorway, wearing a light blue pyjama. “I hope it didn’t overwhelm you.”

“It was nice,” Jeremy replied quietly. Mr Ross looked like he wanted to say something, but as far as the expression had come it had vanished again.

“Good night, Jeremy.”

“Good night, Mr Ross.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and Comments are love ;) 
> 
> Btw, Henley man was Harvey, in case you wondered.


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